


Victory of Hope

by Kiss_Me_Im_Pie



Category: Game Grumps, PewDiePie (YouTube RPF), Real Person Fiction, Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Corruption, Goverment Control, Gun Violence, Multi, Police Brutality, Possible Character Death, Rebellion, Uprising, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:33:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6241186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiss_Me_Im_Pie/pseuds/Kiss_Me_Im_Pie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack stood up tall, his shoulders squared and his back straight with a confidence not seen before by his friends. “We have the chance to make something with our lives. These people,” He gestured to the closed door, meaning the world beyond, “they need hope. We can give it to them. We can change all of our lives for the better."</p><p>“Or die a horribly painful death.” Wade quipped.</p><p>Mark hit him lightly on the forearm, before his brown orbs connected with Jack’s bright blue. “So, how do you say we do this?”</p><p>Jack smiled a rare toothed grin before walking over to the bags of shopping and pulling out the book from earlier. He brushed off the small layer of dirt and dust, before placing it on the table to present it to the other three. “Have you guys ever heard of a revolution?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The City of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> 'What is a rebel? A man who says no.'  
> Albert Camus

The sky was lit up in a beautiful mass of oranges and touches of yellow-making up the rich autumn sunset, and would have been a wondrous sight for the inhabitants of the shack filled town, had the tall buildings of the city not been blocking their view of the sky.

It was little past six o'clock in the evening, when many workers began their trek back to their homes. Tired and hungry, they all but trudged back to their houses, into the arms of their loved ones who awaited their return at the doors. Husbands ran to wives, sisters to brothers, children grasped onto the legs of a parent as a silent thanks that they were still here. _Yes, I'm still alive, can we have dinner tonight?_

Walking behind the group, handgun firmly fastened at one hip and baton at the other, was a heavily armoured guard. A black ensemble, consisting of a long sleeve shirt and a pair of similarly coloured cargo trousers covered the man, a bullet-proof vest layered on top, with knee high boots, gloves and a black helmet for added protection. He was clearly new to the job, with a hard forced grimace and a disgusted look in his eyes only found in those brought up to hate the poorest around them. He kept his sight firmly on the group as he escorted them back to their homes, his job to make sure that nothing went astray and that no one acted out, but if someone was to become injured, everyone knew that no one high up would care.

So most walked back in silence, or in hushed conversation about their newborns or their co-workers. No sane person would ever talk about their rights, or how the poor were being treated.

Then again, no one ever thought of Sean 'Jack' McLoughlin as 'sane'.

"Jack," Mark whispered firmly, checking behind him to see if the guard had heard his friend's ranting yet, "you _really_ should shut up before he hears you."

"No, Mark. I don't care if he does hear me." Jack made no effort to lower his voice, speaking just as loud as he usually would. "This sucks balls, and you know it."

Walking next to the two, Wade and Molly exchanged a worried glance between them. They'd barely been walking for five minutes when Jack began grumbling out loud. They were now nearly ten minutes down the line, and people that were originally near to them had moved away, afraid of being caught under the guard's wrath when he finally heard the conversation. Wade grasped Molly's hand tightly, squeezing it once for comfort. She quickly returned it.

"We're treated crappy at work," If at all possible, Jack had become louder, "especially considering that either of us could be injured at any given moment. This is bullshit-motherfucking bullshit!"

There was a cough behind the group, alerting the presence of the guard. His hand rested on his handgun, his gaze strongly cast upon Jack as he calmly asked, "What was that?"

"Oh nothing," Jack began innocently, before spinning around to meet the guard's eye, "just the fact that we're being treated like fucking shit, while you dicks lie high and dry!" 

Mark, who had moved himself to stand behind the armoured man, tried to catch his eye, to warn him off from saying anything else, but the damage had already been done.

The guard's jaw clenched, and his grip on the gun tightened ever so slightly. "You're treated exactly how you should be, you lot are no better than the scum on the bottom of my shoes."

Jack's eyes narrowed, but the corner of his mouth upturned by the smallest amount. "You may think we're so bad, but I wonder how far we'd have to go back before we found your family living where we are now." 

Most of the other workers had run off by that point, darting quickly into their homes and barricading the doors. Some opened their houses to those who lived too far away to get to safety, but who also didn't want to see whatever punishment Jack had earned.

Mark's hand curled into a fist behind his back. Whatever happened next, Jack had brought upon himself, without a doubt, but should it become too much, Mark was prepared to fight for his best friend's life. By the look on the guard's face, he had the feeling it might come to that.

Jack, however, stood still-his mouth still fixated in a smirk, until the armoured man quickly withdrew his baton, and firmly slammed it across Jack's face. The poorer of the two fell to the ground, a sickening crack echoing throughout the street. Molly's hand flew to her mouth as she stepped back into Wade's arms. Mark's fist grew so tight that his fingernails began to cut into the palm of his hand, but he still made no move, forcibly reminding himself that should he make any form of intervention, he would end up on the floor next to his friend.

After what seemed like years, Jack began to push himself up, one hand being used for support and the other grabbing onto his nose, now streaming with blood. A red mark was left on his cheek from where the baton had skimmed him, but as he pulled himself upright, the group found that, incredibly, he was still smirking. "Douch a nerve, dere?" 

The guard took a half-step forwards, leaning so he was in the face of the shorter man. "I don't take disrespect from the likes of you." He leaned back slightly and spat directly into the injured man's face, before proceeding to lift his arm to strike him again with the weapon.

Before he could, however, Jack-mustering up what strength he had left, swiftly lifted his knee into his attacker's stomach, just under where the protective vest stopped. The guard doubled over in pain, and Mark let out a soft gasp. This time, he caught Jack's eye, and tried to urge him to run, to escape before the armoured man had time to retaliate, but it was too late. Already the guard had recovered, and he once again lifted the baton to attack Jack, a dangerous glint now noticeable in his eyes. Mark, seeing the lost cause, took a step back and closed his own, and all Wade could do was turn Molly in his arms and hide her face in his tattered clothes so she wouldn't have to watch.

_~Victory of Hope~_

"Mandy! Mandy!"

The woman in question ran towards the door, her husband Bob close behind her. It wasn't the first time in her life that someone was yelling her name, but she rarely heard it from Mark. As she reached where the noise came from, she gasped lightly. Mark was off to the side, Molly close by, whilst Wade carried in Jack's unconscious body.

"What happened?" Bob asked, but Mandy was already getting to work. She directed Wade to put Jack down on the makeshift dining table, fashioned out of four concrete blocks and a slab of wood. She retrieved what little medical supplies she had from underneath the bed, before rushing back and beginning to work on their friend.

"Can you help him?"

God, if she had been paid every time she heard that, well, she wouldn't have to live there. She could afford one of the big houses in the city that only the rich could even dream about. One big enough for all six of them.

But she wasn't rich. She was still there, in a house made of sheets of metal, sticks and old breeze blocks from abandoned construction sites from long ago. She was still the only doctor, no matter how basic her knowledge, for three hours that the poor could go to.

She was still trying to help Jack.

"Most likely." She told Mark. "Most of his injuries seem to be pretty minor. There are a few cuts, maybe some bruising on his ribs, possibly a concussion, how long has he been unconscious?"

"Umm...five minutes, maybe?" Mark looked to Molly and Wade, who nodded in affirmation.

"As long as he wakes up soon, he should be fine." Mandy told them, turning away to grab some cloth sheets for bandages.

"And if he doesn't?" Molly asked quietly. 

Mandy paused in grabbing the supplies for a few seconds, before starting again, though slightly quicker than before. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

She quickly got to work, gathering up the makeshift bandages and a rag, while asking Bob to go and fill up a shallow bowl with water. Each household had a limited supply of food and water depending on how many people there were living there. Seeing as they had crammed the six of them into the small hut, they got more than most, so they took turns taking water from each others' supply to help others. None of them minded, they knew that it was all they could do to help them.

Bob soon returned with the bowl, and Mandy quickly dampened the rag before starting to clean Jack's wounds on his arms, before taking off his tattered shirt and addressing the few on his torso. She then wrapped them up and tied the ends off, quickly checking his ribs in case they were broken while she was at it. Upon finding nothing too bad, she checked his head for a lump, and found a small one on the side, but as she felt it for anything suspicious, they all saw Jack begin to stir. A soft groan left his mouth as his eyes slowly opened a fraction. He began to try and say something, but was cut off by Mark yelling, "What the hell was that?!"

"Mark." Bob whispered, silently urging him to stay quiet. Mark kept his mouth closed.

"W-where am I?" Jack asked, his voice horse and quieter than anyone could remember it to be.

"You're home, Jack." Mandy informed him as she washed the crusted blood off from underneath his nose. "Can you remember what happened?" There was a moment of silence as Jack thought, before he slowly nodded his head, the thought better of it as he groaned from the pain, screwing his eyes up tightly. "We were walking back from work, and I was talking to Mark-"

"You were _not_ talking, you were shouting for ten minutes!" Mark cut in suddenly, eliciting soft glares from each other person in the room. He shut his mouth once again.

"Carry on Jack." Mandy prompted as she bandaged up his ribs.

"So I was talking to Mark about work and the conditions, and the guard heard me and beat the shite out of me." 

Mandy looked over to Wade and Molly, who once again nodded in agreement, as did Mark, albeit more slowly. She looked back to her bandaging and clicked her tongue once before looking back at Jack and asking, "So why were you talking about work conditions out in the open?"

Jack looked away for a few moments, suddenly becoming very interested in the dirty, lightly blood spattered floor. Mark looked over at him, connecting eyes for the second time that day, and nodded lightly for him to continue. Jack sucked in a breath and looked to Mandy. "You know Marzia, lives a couple blocks down, sweet, kind?"

"Yeah."

"She was fired from the textiles factory today." Wade spat. "She's been working late day after day for weeks to meet the new quota and she was fired anyway." He and Molly, having jobs at the same factory, had unfortunately been witnesses to the incident earlier that day.

Mandy sighed softly, pausing in her work as Bob shook his head behind her. Jobs were scarce and far between, there was little to no doubt that Marzia's job would be long gone by now.

"I'd offer her a job here helping," Mandy started, gesturing to her makeshift workstation, "but I only get what people can afford to give. I could barely give her anything."

"I was going to go see her tomorrow, did you want to come with me?" Molly asked her. Mandy nodded back, a small, sad smile her for face. The next day was Sunday, the one day when all the workplaces were closed, allowing the workers to shop for supplies and visit friends and family. It was a day not hastily wasted.

"I better go into the market tomorrow." Bob commented, leaning back against one of Mandy's makeshift workstations. "Need to grab food and water supplies, and we'll probably need some more medical stuff."

"I'll go with you," Mark started, nodding once in his friend's direction, "you'll probably need some help with all that stuff." Bob nodded back in affirmation.

"I'll stay with Jack then." Wade stated, one hand leaning on the workbench.

"No," Jack corrected, pushing himself up to a sitting position and holding back the wince that followed, "I'm going too."

"No you're not, you're staying righ-"

Jack cut Mandy off. "I'm gonna have to go back into work on Monday anyway, or I'll be fired as well. If I go out tomorrow, then it won't be as much as a shock when I'm working all day."

Mandy was silent for a few moments, before sighing lightly and nodding in agreement-he had a point. Whilst Wade and Molly worked at the textile factory, Mark and Jack had jobs at the labour yard, both spending most days moving boxes and shipments from incoming ships to the trucks. Jack needed to be 100% in order to keep up.

"I guess I'll go with you guys then." Wade corrected. The other men nodded in understanding. The next day was sure to be interesting.


	2. That Which is Forbidden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'When the sword of rebellion is drawn, the sheath should be thrown away.'  
> English Proverb

The streets of the market were crowded that next day, but no more than what was expected. The inhabitants of the nearby houses flocked to receive their weekly rations from The State, as well as to scour the stalls run by the locals for simple comforts. Clothes made of patched fabric and small amounts of soap-usually made out inflect over fat, were popular and often sold out before many could get to them.

Through the combined effort of Mandy's nursing and his own stubborn personality, Jack had managed to downgrade his injuries to a minor limp, allowing him to hobble alongside his friends as they walked in the marketplace. After Bob collected their food and water rations (with the other three staying out of sight, just in case the guard on duty happened to recognise them from the incident the day before), the four of them settled for simply wandering around.

Something that Jack had slowly began to notice was the amount of people casting sideways glances in his direction. More than once he overheard his name whispered in conversations with a combination of confusion, fright and-to his surprise, excitement. Words like 'rebel' and 'hero' were tossed around in single sentences, each one making his head pound ever so slightly.

The four of them eventually came to a stop at a small stall (considerably a large distance from the rations table), that seemed to be selling all kinds of miscellaneous items. Scraps of metal, fabrics and threads and even small loaves of bread, not much larger than the palm of a child's hand, but bread nonetheless. Standing behind the table were two men, both harbouring small smiles on their faces. The two bore shoulder length, dark brown hair and eyes a few shades darker, but one had straight hair, cut shorter at the front, whilst the other one's hair had formed long curls that only seemed to be tamed by the ponytail he had pulled it in to.

"Hey guys, how you doing?" The straight haired one asked them, breaking away from the small conversation the two were previously engaged in.

"We're alright," Wade answered, eyeing loaves, "is this real bread?"

"Yep, just as they should be." The second man replied, his smile never wavering.

"How is that even possible?" Bob questioned them. "Where can you get ingredients for something like that?"

The straight haired man looked over at his friend, but the other salesman seemed interested in Jack. After a few moments, he leaned forward and whispered quietly, so only those at the stalk could hear. "Hey, you're Jack, aren't you?"

Jack frowned ever so slightly and looked to his friends, before back at the man. From the new angle, the blue eyed man could spot differences between the two. Whilst they were both tall-just a little under Wade and Bob's height, the curly haired man seemed to be a small bit taller than the other, and his eyes-which Jack could now see were a tad darker than that of his friend's, had a small twinkle to them. The injured labourer nodded the smallest amount.

The other's eyes darted around momentarily to check for any eavesdroppers, before he leaned in closer. "What if I told you I could show you where we get these, and so much more?"

The four friends all looked to each other, similar looks of confusion etched into their features, before the first man looked to his friend with one of fear.

"Dude," He exclaimed quietly, "what are you doing?"

"Arin," His curly haired friend replied, "that's the guy from yesterday." He jerked his head in the direction of Jack. "He's the one who stood up to the guards."

'Arin' looked other at Jack, his eyes flashing recognition. He bit his lip lightly before nodding back at him, and taking a step back in order to watch out for others.

His friend's smile returned as he now regarded all four of them. "Listen. If you want to find out where we get that bread, along with so much more about our world, then meet us back here at the end of the market. Or, you can walk away, and forget any of this happened. You'll be safer, I can tell you that."

"How do we know we can trust you?" Mark asked, keeping his voice as quiet as the other man's.

"You don't. I like to think that's part of the fun."

_~Victory of Hope~_

True to their word, at the end of the market, when most were packing away their stalls, the two brown haired men were standing nearby. Arin noticed them first, and quickly notified his friend of their arrival. The two were all smiles as they approached them.

"So you want to learn more?" The curled one asked them.

"Where are you guys gonna take us anyway?" Jack questioned, still slightly cautious.

Arin and his still unnamed friend exchanged smiles before turning around and beckoning for the four to follow. After a brief moment of hesitation, they did, with Mark leading the way.

"So, you're Jack McLoughlin," Arin stated after a few minutes of silent wandering, "nearly everyone knows that by now, but who are the rest of you?"

"My name's Mark Fischbach," The youngest of the remaining three replied, flashing a small smile of his own.

"I'm Wade Barnes." He offered a small wave.

A curt nod. "Bob Muyskens."

"Good to meet you guys," The second replied, "I'm Dan Avidan, that's Arin Hanson."

"So, Dan, can we ask where we're going again?" Bob questioned, looking around at the derelict buildings surrounding them.

"Sure can." Arin answered for him. "In fact, we're right here."

The six of them walked up to the double doors of an old factory, closed down many years before. The windows had long been broken and boarded up, and the iron doors had small amounts of rust on them. From the outside, it looked like no one had touched them since closure.

Dan walked up to the doors and knocked on them very precisely, two knocks, a pause, another knock, a second pause, and then two more knocks. There was a moment of silence, before a voice answered, "Whose there?"

"It's us, Dan and Arin."

"What's the password?"

Dan's face took on one of confusion and slight anger. "Passwor-? Goddammit Ross, just open the door!"

There was the sound of a poorly stifled laugh, before a reply came. "Close enough."

One of the doors slowly opened, as silent as one in its condition could, revealing a man stood behind, a small grin on his face. He was about Jack and Mark's height, with short dirty blonde hair and piecing blue eyes quite similar to Jack's own.

"Hey guys," The new man, 'Ross', greeted, "how'd the market go?" He suddenly caught eye of the other four, and looked at them questionably. "And who are they?"

"Went okay, sold a few pieces. We’ll give the money to everyone in a bit." Arin replied, putting down the packed up stall and box of left over supplies that he had carried back next to the door. "And these guys are Mark, Wade, Jack and Bob." Each gave a wave to when their name was called.

"And...?"

"Dude," Dan's face still held the same smile from earlier as he indicated to Jack, "this is the guy with the guard, from yesterday after work-Jack McLoughlin."

Ross' eyes widened slightly as he took Jack in, before he smiled once again. "Jeez, yeah. I get why you brought them now." He stepped aside and stretched out a hand to indicate to the rest of the room. "Welcome."

The four of them took a few steps forward, wide eyes taking in the scene around them. The room was large, a bit bigger than one of the floors of one of the current factories. It was clearly a first attempt at making factories for the poorer workers. However, the building was now inhabited by stall upon stall, similar to the market outside, but with very different items for sale. Food, beyond that of the rations given out (a mixture of ground up meat leftovers and the odd vegetable). Bread and fruit were common on these stalls, more than any of the four had ever seen before, and they could even spot some with confectionary and baked good on them. Items that looked electronic could be seen, but on closer inspection were actually slightly different, more accessible for the area, windup flashlights and solar powered radios a popular occurrence.

The four of them followed Arin and Danny on a short tour, introducing them to their friends on the way. Ross was in charge of entry, making sure that no one who wasn't authorised entered. Each authorised person got their clearance from Brian, their head of security. He was the kind of guy that you would definitely follow orders from, with his brown hair with wisps of grey, but cold, icy blue eyes. Arin told them that Brian was their very own ninja. They couldn't tell if that was a joke or not.

Barry and Kevin both helped keep everything running smoothly on the days of their market, showing people to their allocated spaces, and getting the news out about dates and times. Barry, the taller of the two (yet still shorter than Ross), bore light brown hair and eyes caught between green and grey, whilst Kevin had the skin of some of the chocolate pieces of several candy stalls, along with dark brown hair and eyes, but both were as friendly as any of them could hope, with bright eyes and smiles all around.

At the head of it all was Suzy, whom Arin happily introduced as his wife. She was the manager of the whole event, having orchestrated it from the very first meeting. She was the shortest of the bunch, but was clearly not a force to be reckoned with. Her long dark brown hair reached a bit below her shoulders and her similarly colored eyes were watching the room as she stood up on a balcony of a the small second floor at the back, originally built as an area for the factory manager at the time, but was now being used as a meeting room for those in charge.

After introductions, Dan and Arin explained their own role. They stated that they went around and collected a few items from each stall and took them to sell in the ‘normal market’, as they dubbed it, so they could try and score twice as much money. As they walked around, the four watched as they gave out the money they had earned that day to each respective person before giving the rest to Suzy. “The people get 90% of money from their items, and we get the rest, just so we can keep doing this and not have to work in the factories.” As Dan explained it.

After their tour, the four friends split up and walked around, viewing the stalls for themselves. Bob looked at the vast array medical supplies, much larger than what anyone at the normal market could scramble together, and definitely more efficient for Mandy to use. Mark decided to try out some of the electronics and asked about how they were made, while Wade scoured the selection of fabrics and supplies, Molly’s love of crafts in mind. Jack, on the other hand, found himself walking past all sorts of items that he had never seen before, interested in each and every one. However, he found himself drawn to one stall, nearer to the back of the room, with a collection of books on it. The man stood behind it were two men, both much taller than him, one with short dark brown hair and rich brown eyes, and the other with coal black hair and bright blue eyes, but both with dazzling smiles that looked to have been there since birth.

“Hello sir, how are you?” The blue eyed man greeted.

“It’s going good, thanks.” Jack replied, his gaze cast on the books. “Are all of these from The State?” The government was known for passing out propaganda books to the rich inhabitants of the inner city in order to keep them on their side and squash out any wavering loyalty.

“No, actually,” His brown haired friend answered in a surprisingly articulate voice, “these are all from ages ago, before The State even existed. You read?”

“Kinda, my friend taught me as much as he could, so I can understand stuff, but it takes me a while.” The ability to read was scarce among the poorer folk, since there was little to no form of education available. Luckily, Bob had be taught by his father, who had been taught by his own, and had continued down the line for many generations. Upon becoming friends with everyone and meeting Mandy, he began teaching them what he knew, beginning with his partner, then moving on to Jack and currently working with Mark, whilst Mandy tried with Molly, who had planned to later teach Wade.

He began to look through the selection available, his eyes scanning the covers of old story books and novels, before he found one nearer to the bottom. It was covered in a layer of dust, but he could still read the unfamiliar words.

“The Amer-” He tried, before attempting to sound it out. “A-mer-i-can Re…Revo…revolu-”

“ _Revolution_.” The articulate one helped. “The American Revolution.”

“It’s a history book from long before.” The other continued. “Where the city is now, there used to be a place called Los Angeles, in a large area called California. There were loads of these areas, 50-I think, and they all made up a country called America. But then, years and years ago, these people came and took over, trying to take the country for themselves. But the people rebelled, and they were able to take back what was theirs. _That’s_ a revolution.”

Jack looked up at him with wide eyes. He had never heard anyone talk about rebelling so openly before, but something about this room, it gave him a sense of hope. He looked at the book once more before pulling out what money he had left over from earlier.

“How much?”


	3. The Start of It All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Humanity has advanced, when it has advanced, not because it has been sober, responsible, and cautious, but because it has been playful, rebellious, and immature.   
> Tom Robbins

After their look into the black market, four men bid their new friends farewell, with a promise from Brian guaranteeing a place on the entry list. They packed their forbidden items into the bags they had acquired from the normal market and made their way down the street to their home, their spirits higher than usual. The sun was slowly setting by the time they made it back, but none of them seemed to care.

"We're back." Bob called out as they walked through their door.

"Thank god." Molly replied in a whisper, quickly moving forward and burying herself in her boyfriend's arms.

"Where were you guys?" Mandy asked, trying to keep her voice level, but still grasping Bob's hand in unspoken urgency. "The market closed hours ago, we were worried something had happened."

"We're fine." Wade promised, instinctively rubbing Molly's back. "We got distracted on the way back." They'd decided earlier that day to keep their significant others out of the loop for the time being, for their safety above anything else. If the four of them got taken away, at least it would keep them from falling to the same fate.

"For four hours?" Mandy cocked an eyebrow.

"We managed to get some stuff while we were out." Mark quickly changed the subject, and began to pull out the food and water rations, which he and Jack put away in a few of the cupboards.

"There were a few more medical supplies available today." Bob told his girlfriend, leading her over to her supply cabinet at the back of the main room, his own bag in hand. "Better stuff than usual too."

"How much better?"

"Enough to make a difference."

With everyone else distracted, Wade and Molly made their way over to the group's makeshift living area and both sat down on their 'couch', a few leftover breezeblocks that the latter had tucked some fabric around in order to make them slightly more comfortable to sit on.

"I found some fabric scraps, a bit more colourful that the last ones." Wade still found himself rubbing circles with his thumb over Molly’s hand as he spoke, his heart heavy from the idea of worrying her all day. "And, I found this."

He reached into his bag, and pulled out a small metal tin, no bigger than the palm of his hand. But what was inside made Molly’s eyes widen.

"A sewing kit?" She looked up at Wade, confusion etched into her features. "Wade, where did you…? How?"

"Someone must have got it out of a factory, or had connections, I don’t know." He admitted. "But I saw it, and I remembered you said you wanted to try and make larger stuff and repair our clothes, and I thought with this you might be able to finall-"

He found himself cut off by a pair of arms wrapping around his middle, the blonde woman’s face pushed into his neck. He carefully closed the tin and put it down, before returning the hug. The two of them sat there for a long time, no words spoken between them, simply comfortable in the warmth of their each other's arms.

_~Victory of Hope~_

It was late into the night by the time that the men met up once more. They crept out of the bedroom that they all shared and back into the main living area, leaving the two women behind in their beds. They quietly sat down on the couch and looked at one another for a few moments.

"So," Mark began. "What are we going to do? About the market, I mean - are we going back or...?"

"I think it's a good opportunity. We can get stuff to help enhance our lives." Bob stated.

"But if we're caught?" Wade added.

"There's no question about it." Mark started, standing up as quietly as he could and beginning to pace. "If we're caught we'll disappear. No second thoughts, we'll just cease to exist. Painfully, may I add."

Bob looked back at the bedroom where the two women slept peacefully. "As long as they're safe." Wade nodded in affirmation, his gaze catching the sleeping figure of his girlfriend.

"What do you think Jack?" Mark asked, realising that the usually loud and brash man hadn't spoken for some time. In fact, he couldn't recall hearing him say anything at all since returning from the market.

Jack stayed quiet in his seat for a few moments, simply mulling over his thoughts, before pushing himself up and standing near to Mark. "I've been thinking."

"Don't hurt yourself." Wade stated with a slight smirk. 

Jack sent a small smile his friend's way, before continuing. "Today, everywhere we went, people were talking about me and what happened. I don't want to sound pretentious, but it was the first time that people smiled at one another, it was the fort time that people seemed happy with their quality of life - even if it was just for a moment. And I feel...I feel like we can do more with this."

"What do you mean?" Bob asked his friend.

Jack stood up tall, his shoulders squared and his back straight with a confidence not seen before by his friends. "We have the chance to make something with our lives. These people," He gestured to the closed door, meaning the world beyond, "they need hope. We can give it to them. We can change all of our lives for the better."

"Or die a horribly painful death." Wade quipped.

Mark hit him lightly on the forearm, before his brown orbs connected with Jack’s bright blue. "So, how do you say we do this?"

Jack smiled a rare toothed grin before walking over to the bags of shopping and pulling out the book from earlier. He brushed off the small layer of dirt and dust, before placing it on the table to present it to the other three. "Have you guys ever heard of a revolution?"

Met with three blank stares, he explained. "A revolution is when people try to take back what's theirs. Not small stuff, but when people try to take over their lives – they fight back. I say we do exactly that, fight back." He opened the book in front of them and pointed to a picture of a painting – a man sat on his horse, his forces behind him. "That’s what I mean!"

"You want us to get horses?" Bob questioned, looking decidedly unconvinced.

"No!" Jack resisted the urge to slam his head on the couch. "I want us to gather people, take a stand! You know, fight for our rights!"

"And wage a full out war?" Bob asked.

" _About four thou-thousand, four hundred and…thirty-five people were killed in battle._ " Mark read out loud, before looking up at his friend. "You’d want to put thousands of lives at risk?"

“I want to make a difference, to give people what they really deserve. You can’t seriously think that what we do now is good enough. Where people can be just fired for no reason at any point and are simply left to starve?!"

The other three men gave each other worried glances, no words said for a few moments, before Wade began to speak. "So…if we were to do this, what would you want to do?"

Jack’s grin returned, slightly more menacing than before. "What do The State value above all else? More than money, more than power?"

"Control." Mark stated confidently. "Control over us, everyone they view as poorer than them."

"Exactly," Jack confirmed, "and are we most controlled?"

"At work." This time Wade gave the answer. "At the factories and the labour yards."

"So what do we do?" Their blue eyed friend put forward. "We hit them where it hurts."

Their conversation went on much longer than any of them anticipated. Concerns were brought forward and strategies were made. Plans were drafted and amended time after time, each version better than the last. Every man put forward their contributions, their morals lifted by the hope in their voices. By the time that the birds were signing their morning tune and the sky had opened up to its mass of sunrise colours, they finally had a course of action in place. But for once they didn’t find themselves worrying about not being their best at work, or about the exhaustion they would surly feel at the end of the working day. Instead, they simply took small amounts of water from their supplies and splashed it on their faces, unable to remove their smiles.

For once, everything seemed to be going alright.


	4. Silence of the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is something that Governments care for far more than human life, and that is the security of property, and so it is through property that we shall strike the enemy. Be militant each in your own way. I incite this meeting to rebellion.  
> Emmeline Pankhurst

It wasn't until a few weeks later that they had everything prepared, which included another visit to the next black market. Around two weeks after their first experience, they had woken up to get ready for work when a letter was slid under their door. Bob had intercepted it before anyone else, and informed the other three men once he realised what it was.

 

_The Grump Market_

_This Sunday_

_Usual Place_

_Tell No-one_

 

After hiding the letter behind their food storage, Bob and Mandy bid the others farewell for the day and allowed them to join the group walking to work. Much like in the evenings the workers were escorted to the factories and labour yards early in the morning ‘to make sure no-one acted out’. Luckily for Jack, the guard from before was absent that day, as he had been since the incident. However, this hadn’t stopped the guards that _were_ present, including those stationed at the labour yard itself, from pushing him around more and purposely assigning him the most tiresome jobs. Yet, throughout the day the entire group would catch the glances that people sent them – even after all that time people still saw Jack as a hero.

That Sunday, after another tiring week, the four men set off to the market once again, taking the letter with them for good measure. After collecting their rations, they set off for the market and knocked on the door in the specific pattern that they had gone over in their heads so they could remember it. The door opened after a few seconds and they were met with Ross once again, who waved them in. They nodded their greetings to Brian, smiling when we returned them, as he stood silently next to Ross.

They first went around and picked up a few small items – medical supplies and whatnot, before moving to get what they really came for. Near the fabric and crafts table, a small stall bore small cans of paint of so many colours that the men were not aware of the names of some. They picked out several of the brightest colours possible and paid the woman manning the table. They also bought three paintbrushes and a wind-up flashlight before bidding their new friends goodbye for the day.

“You sure this will work Jack?” Mark asked, not for the first time.

“When have I ever been sure about anything?” Jack retorted.

Mark nodded, keeping the rest of his concerns to himself.

_~Victory of Hope~_

That same night, while everyone else slept, the door of their house gently opened, allowing the four men to creep outside into the darkness. Once they checked for any guards patrolling the area, they ran down the road as fast as they could. None of them dared to make a sound, the quiet echoes of their footsteps worrying them enough. If they should be caught out of their homes, they would be faced with consequences that none of them believed they would come back from. They kept themselves hidden in the shadows of the other houses, ducking away at any sound heard – no matter how distant it may seem.

Before long they found themselves crouching behind a wall nearby their target. Beyond the stone structure stood the first textile factory of the row, the one that everyone had to pass on their way to both the other buildings as well as all of the labour yards near the coast. During the day, guards stood outside – constantly prepared to be pulled into action and break up a dispute of some sort. Then though, under the cover of darkness, it was silent with not even an audible breeze in the air.

“Ready?” Jack’s voice was the quietest that any of them had ever heard it.

Upon receiving three nods in return, Jack stood up and began to run towards the structure knowing that his friends were close behind. They crouched once more in front of the large iron doors as Bob unloaded the bag he had been carrying over his shoulder. The small pots of paint were placed on the ground, the lids screwed off, and the three brushes given to the other men, with Bob taking the flashlight.

“Okay – remember, we have to be quick about this.” He reminded quietly, with the other three nodding in reply.

Bob began to wind up the flashlight, a few turns giving them the light they needed. As soon as they could see their own hands, the others dipped their brushes into the pots and began to paint strokes onto the iron doors. Soon the bright colours began to spell out letters, with letters forming words. Every so often Bob would interject the correct spelling of a word that the others seemed hesitant on, but other than that the only sounds made were the constant winding of the flashlight paired with the occasional scraping of metal on wood. Each man kept a lookout for sounds in the distance as they willed their hands to stop shaking, but to little avail.

The moon had travelled quite a way along the night sky by the time they fixed the lids back onto the metal cans. Bob took the bag back and they all shared a smile together.

All four smiles were gone as soon as they heard the unmistakable sound of talking.

As quietly as they could, they ran towards the wall once again and tried to make themselves as small as physically possible. Footsteps began to echo in the silence of the night as two guards came into view. The four men willed them to stay away from their new message, since the paint was not yet dry and would make them realise that the perpetrators would be nearby.

By some stroke of genuine luck, the guards walked up to where the factory row began but instead of carrying on, took a right and began to walk down a new path. The nearby friends watched in shock and disbelief as the two of them carried on talking, not realising how different the night would have turned out had they simply carried on. Not wishing to risk coming across another patrol, the four of them got up and began to run back in the direction of their home. Bob held tightly onto the bag to make sure that none of the tins rattled or crashed together and alerted anyone to their presence but he needn’t have worried, as they soon made it back to their house with all of them practically shaking with adrenaline.

They carefully opened their door, glad to see the women of the household still asleep in bed. They hid the bag in a pile of scrap in one of the corners and returned to their bedroom. Wade and Bob nestled back into the arms of their significant others whilst Jack and Mark reclaimed their own separate beds. None of them could manage to drop the smiles they had regained upon walking through their door, and all managed to soon get to sleep wondering what the next day would bring.


	5. The Man in the Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revolution is the festival of the oppressed.  
> Germaine Greer

The next day the group were halfway through their breakfast, the four men managing to keep their combined nerves and excitement somehow concealed, when their door was unexpectedly thrown open by two guards. The two of them were stone faced and yet managed to show rage in their stature. The inhabitants of the house couldn't help but notice that their guns were out and loaded, ready to be used at any moment.

"All of you, follow us." One of them ordered in a worryingly monotone voice.

Not wanting to be accused of going against orders, the group left their food where it stood and followed the guards outside. The four men, unsurprisingly, all thought at once that they had been caught and they were all being punished for their actions. However, upon walking outside they were greeted with the sight of hundreds of people, all of their neighbours for a five mile radius or so, all looking just as confused as they were. The guards that had gathered them immediately left and threw open the next available door, collecting the occupants of that house as well. Despite the large quantity of people walking, the street was nearly completely silent.

As they reached the edge of the houses, their group met up with several others, leading to at least a thousand people being led along. The guards continued to march them along the path to the factories with no explanation given, the confusion easily seen on the faces of those around them. That is, until they reached the first factory in the row. Upon reading the vandalism situated on the front the silence broke and whispers began flying between one another in the large group. For written in large letters, each word painted in a bright pattern of pink, green, red and purple, read:

_They can't keep us quiet for much longer_

As the six friends looked around, they saw that everyone was talking to one another about it. Even though most of them wouldn't know what the words said nor meant, they would understand the implications of the factories being defaced.

After a few moments of hushed confusion and shock, the head guard stood up the front of the crowd, bringing any conversation to a halt.

"As you can see," The man started, his unmoving voice traveling across the largest group with ease, "last night certain individuals decided they would vandalise the property of The State." He paused for a moment, his gaze crossing the crowd. "I should remind those select people that we will find out who did this, and we will punish them as much as they deserve."

An uncomfortable silence swept over the group as people stole sideways glances at everyone around them, each person making their own theories and accusations in their heads. The man continued, "And if I should find that anyone knows of who did this – and fails to come forward, then know that they shall be treated _just_ the same.” The head guard nodded once at his co-workers, who began to move in a predetermined fashion, before speaking again. "Those of you who now have work to do will be allowed inside, everyone else will be escorted back to your homes."

With a quick goodbye said to Bob and Mandy, the other four quickly went towards their workplaces - eager to not draw attention to themselves. They soon got to work, Jack and Mark receiving their daily assignments at the labour yard, whilst over at the textiles factory (two over from the one currently vandalised) Wade stationed himself at the machinery downstairs and Molly joined others upstairs and began to sew the clothes together. The four of them tried to keep their heads down and simply get through the day, but whispered comments flew around their workstations and, not for the first time, hope found itself in the dreary shack filled town.

_~Victory of Hope~_

The main the city took over the majority of the land, with the tall buildings shadowing over the outskirts like giants crowding the sky. Bright lights and loud sounds surrounded the inhabitants at all hours of the day, keeping them energised at all times. Large screens, placed on the buildings at every corner and junction, played constant propaganda that the residents had been spoon fed since birth. To anyone else, the situation would be deemed unjust or morally corrupt. But to them, it was normal.

Right in the middle of the city, one tower stood taller than any other. Every wall was covered in windows and bright lights surrounded the very top, illuminating night skies with the look of a halo. Six guards stood at the entrance, half each side of the glass double doors, any expression eerily vacant from their faces.

On the very top floor, a large desk say across from the elevator. The dark brown wood contrasted with the bright sky outside, but blended in with the melancholy feel in the office.

Sat behind the desk in a black leather chair, suit jacket done up and tie tightly fastened, sat a man. He had appeared to sit in the only area in the office where a shadow dared enter, and seemed to embrace it, allowing himself to be swallowed into the darkness.

"Have the guards caught the vandals yet?" His voice echoed through the room as if it went on forever.

Off to the side, another man stood with a large tablet, clearly trying to stop his body from shaking. His blonde hair lay plastered to his head with a fastening of gel and his blue eyes looked almost grey with the lost energy inside them. He was dressed slightly less extravagantly, donning a crisp white button up shirt tucked into a pair of blue slacks and black lace up shoes. His voice held an accent, different from those around him, but still likely unknown as he answered, "No Sir, not yet."

The shadowed man continued nonetheless. "Then see to it that they are apprehended, and punished to the full extent of our resources."

The other man nodded and began exit the room when the first spoke once again.

"Kjellberg."

The blonde stopped immediately in his path and turned to his boss as the chair tuned to face the window.

"I want an example made out of them."

The blonde nodded once more and replied, "Yes Sir." as calmly as he could before turning once more and continuing his walk towards the exit. He stepped into the elevator and confined to watch his boss's chair even as the doors closed, and until the moment he stepped out of the doors once more, now at least halfway down the building, he found himself unable to keep his heartbeat calm.


	6. Falling into Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A civilization which leaves so large a number of its participants unsatisfied and drives them into revolt neither has nor deserves the prospect of a lasting existence.   
> Sigmund Freud

That Sunday the four men made their now weekly journey to the market. They bid goodbye to their significant others and walked down the road to the rows of stalls, heads low and conversation muffled. Over the past week since the vandalism people had been disappearing with no warning, no pattern and no reason. Some had turned up since them. Some hadn't. They weren't taking any chances.

An hour into their excursion they had collected up the bulk of their supplies, when Mark was suddenly pulled out of the main crowd. The other three quickly followed, finding him on the outskirts of the people, Ross nearby.

"Hey, Arin and Dan need to talk to you guys." He quickly told them before anyone could get a word in.

"What about?" Jack questioned.

Ross quickly looked around before leaning in closer. "The factory. You know the one." He stepped back, smiling like they were friend who had known each other forever. "We live 5 houses down south from here - right hand side. I hope you come see us soon." He spoke louder than he needed to, putting on a ruse for those around, before winking at the group and carrying on his way. The four men looked to each other once more, wary looks in their eyes, before going back to the market.

"So, what about that?" Bob asked the others as they walked up to a clothes stall. Scraps fastened loosely together covered the table, resembling what might be called a shirt.

"Well we haven't seen them for a while, how about we go say hi." Mark propositioned, keeping his answered vague in case anyone was listening.

"Seems reasonable." Wade replied. "What do you think they want to say?"

"Don't know," Mark stated, "with how things are going, could be anything by now."

_~Victory of Hope~_

Jack walked gingerly up to the door of the house that Ross had described. He knocked a few times. He briefly thought about performing the secret knock from the black market but quickly decided otherwise, not wanting to draw unwanted attention.

The wooden slab opened, revealing Dan on the other side. His hair had been pulled back in a bun with several curls popping out, but other than that he looked the same as the day they met him.

"Hey guys, glad you could make it! I see Ross didn't fuck up the directions." He smiled at them, before stepping to one side, allowing them in. "Come in, sorry if it's a bit cramped.

The house was a little bigger than the one the men inhabited. The main room was still a kitchen and lounge connected together, but there were two bedrooms connecting off from it instead of just one. Arin waved from their own makeshift couch, his arm around Suzy's shoulders. Barry and Kevin were sat at the kitchen table going over something whilst at the other end Ross sat talking to a woman with short brown hair who was trying to repair his shirt.

"So obviously you've met most of us. That's Ross's wife Holly over there," The women gave them a smile before going back to her husband, "and Brian's in the bedroom with Rachel, that's his wife. They're trying to get their daughter Audrey to nap." Dan sat down next to the couple on the couch. "That's pretty much everyone."

"That's good to know but," Jack looked to the others in his group before looking back at Dan, "what did you want to talk about?"

The atmosphere shifted in the room almost immediately. Kevin, Barry and Ross all looked up at the those on the couch and, upon receiving nods, they walked over to predetermined areas of the house and sat down. Each of them slightly moved a piece of plastic or metal sheet, allowing a small window into the outside. After a few seconds later, Arin stood up.

"We pay attention to everything that people buy at our market." He bluntly stated. "We have to, for security sakes. If something we sold turned up in a guard's hands, we'd need to know who gave it to them. So, when we saw the paint on the factory, after you guys had only just left with some very similar looking stuff, well..."

"It's not a coincidence, is it?" Dan questioned.

The men were silent, glancing to each other in uncertainty, before Mark shook his head. "No, it's not."

"Didn't think so." Dan replied. He chewed his lip lightly before asking, "What are you trying to accomplish with this? You could be killed, you know that. You two," He gestured to Wade and Bob, "you have people back home waiting for you. What do you get out of antagonising them?"

"We all know that this situation is bullshit. We get treated terribly, laid off at any time with no warning and left to die if they so wish. We don't deserve th-"

Kevin lightly tapped the ground twice and Suzy injected into the conversation. "I know right! I didn't even know water could come out someone's nose!" Laughter followed her comment, as if they were all simply conversing happily. A few seconds later Kevin gave a thumbs up to them, and Dan nodded for Jack to continue.

He sighed. "We don't deserve this. We deserve to be safe with avoid income. We deserve our freedom. That's what we're fighting for."

Everyone in the house looked to each other, small smiles on their faces.

"Then we're in." Arin affirmed. "Anytime you need supplies, or soldiers – if it comes to that, know that we're here."

Jack looked around and found everyone else looking with affirmation in their gazes. Even Brian, who had come through halfway through the speech – and arguably had the most to lose, nodded at him with a slight smirk. He smiled back at them. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Arin replied. He stood up and moved closer to the men. "Well, it's getting late. You guys probably need to get back home.” He opened the door. “Have a safe journey back. We hope to see you guys again, same time,” He lowered his voice, “normal place.”

This time it was Mark who smiled at him. “You know we wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

_~Victory of Hope~_

The sun was just setting once again when the men opened the door of their own home. The streets had long since quietened from the market that day, only loiters dotted around now. They had been talking quietly as they walked in, but all conversation stopped when they found Mandy and Molly standing at the door. A familiar, believed to be hidden, piece of paper regarding the Grump Market was clutched in Mandy’s hand. An even more familiar bag, also thought to be hidden, bag was at Molly’s feet – paint cans and all.

“We did some cleaning up while you were gone.” Mandy stated. Her voice was strained, almost taut. “We made some interesting discoveries.”

“Wade?” Molly simply questioned. Her voice was quieter, more hurt and confused than anything. Wade found a sudden fascination with the floor, walls, and anything else other than her eyes.

Mark quickly closed the door behind them, subtly checking for guards, before facing the women. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“It’s exactly what it looks like.” Jack interjected. Mark looked at him, clearly exasperated, but his friend continued. “We went to a black market. We vandalized the factory.”

“Are you out of your minds?” Mandy demanded. “Do you know what could happen?”

“We could be captured. We could be killed. We know the consequences. But we could also change our lives, everyone’s lives, for the better. Yes, it’s a risk, but it’s one we’re all willing to take – if it changes everything.” Jack affirmed, standing tall and proud.

The woman looked to her husband, who nodded to her. “We have a real shot of this, Mandy.”

She looked at him for a few moments before sighing and nodding once herself. “I’m not happy that you went behind our backs, but at least it was for the right reason. Just…keep us in the loop, okay?” Bob nodded in reply, and he, along with Mark and Jack, went with the couple to the main table to tell her everything.

Wade and Molly held back a bit. Molly was still looking at her boyfriend, who finally looked back at her. He stepped forward and hugged her into him.

“I’m sorry I kept this from you.” He apologised. “I was only trying to keep you safe.” “I get that.” Molly replied. “I know you wouldn’t do it for any other reason.”

“So…we’re good?” He questioned.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

He smiled lightly and kissed her on the forehead. “I love you.” He whispered.

She smiled into his chest. “I love you too.” She pulled back, still smiling. “Come on, they’re probably waiting for us.”

Wade nodded and walked with her to the table, ready to tell her everything.


End file.
